


There Were No Lone Wolves

by Mikazuki_Nika



Category: Great Pretender (Anime)
Genre: Case 4: Wizard of Far East, Coffee Shops, M/M, Oneshot, Post-Canon, Spoilers for Case 4, piecing case four together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:21:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26652850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mikazuki_Nika/pseuds/Mikazuki_Nika
Summary: In which Makoto reconciles his old life with his new one.
Relationships: Edamura Makoto & Laurent Thierry, Edamura Makoto/Laurent Thierry
Comments: 7
Kudos: 192





	There Were No Lone Wolves

There were certain, undeniable truths that acted as the foundations of Edamura Makoto’s life like great, stone pillars. 

The first was that his father ruined his life. Ozaki Seiji had allowed himself to be arrested on that fateful day years ago, under admittedly false pretenses, but the years of suffering that came afterward were irreversible. When the pressure of the outside world became too much, Makoto took up his mother’s maiden surname despite the fact that he knew she silently disapproved. He gently declined her urges for him to attend college, aware that the hospital bills would not pay for themselves. Nevertheless, as he searched for work, the things he tried so hard to hide were easily unearthed by simple background checks.

_“I don’t like studying,” he reminds her, a helpless smile twisting the corners of his mouth. His mother seems to wilt slightly at his words, and it pains him to see the shadow of guilt that clings to her already fragile and weakened form. “I’ll be better off working than going to college. Don’t worry, Mom.”_

At the time, he had not understood her endless optimism concerning her husband’s innocence. ‘Your father’s misunderstanding’ became her favorite three words while ‘Forget about him’ became his. It was not until years and years passed that he understood her fascination with the tiny wizard figure he had gifted her from his capsule toys, either, but the young Makoto who had watched his mother die and sold his childhood home did not even _want_ to understand.

The second truth was that Laurent Thierry was his destiny incarnated. The entire affair was the longest con he had ever seen and it blew him away even now. The Frenchman - no, _Belgian_ \- had begged his incarcerated father for a plan, and then executed it near flawlessly, scouting the people he needed like he was casting characters for a play. They had all foolishly danced to Laurent’s and Oz’s tune, unaware that it was all a farce.

_“The things Laurent had me do until now… were they all a test-run for this?”_

_Makoto coolly noted the sudden tension in Oz’s shoulders. “Yes.”_

So Laurent used him. Hunted him down like an animal and then ate him up alive. Waltzed into his life with a smug smile, turned it upside-down, and… snapped him out of the deadly spiral he was descending into. Team Confidence had taught him that he really was nothing more than a two-bit swindler - a petty criminal with the arrogance of a peacock. Meeting Laurent was all a part of a greater plan, yes, but it was also the wake-up call of a lifetime. The blond bastard had given him a chance to set his life back on track and become a man his mother would - he hoped - be proud of.

He wondered, sometimes, if that was any justification.

_“Mom lies alone in her grave while everyone avenges Dorothy!”_

Even today, when his eyes land on Laurent’s infuriatingly-relaxed smile in a seat at the counter in his coffee shop, Makoto did not know how to feel. He could hate Laurent - and his father - for dragging him into that mess and changing his life so drastically, but… 

He braced himself against the smooth, glossy wood of the bar, palms flat on its surface. 

_Was it really that bad?_ he wondered silently. Makoto had lost a lot - his youth, his mother, his home - but he gained so much more. Lifetime friends. The chance to travel the world, to repent for his sins, to reconcile with his father. None of that could replace or substitute for what he had lost, but if his life had remained the same, he would have never found himself standing in this coffee shop. If he put it all into perspective, Laurent had simply borrowed some of his time. Well, a lot of his time - but he had given Makoto more than enough to make up for it.

But these were all things he could only say now, after the fact.

_“Do you know what is more important than good character? A forgiving heart.”_

The third truth was that Dorothy was special. Makoto hated her -

_“Apologize to Dorothy when you see her. Tell her, ‘Sorry it was such a lame plan.’ Then take Dorothy with you and beg for Mom’s forgiveness.”_

\- but only at first.

Who was she to make a mess of his life like this? Who was she to his father, that he had been able to set his loved ones aside for her sake? Who was she to Laurent that she could shackle him to herself, long after death, with chains made of revenge?

As soon as he asked these questions to himself, he had known the answers.

There were no ‘lone wolves.’ He had finally seen through the rules of the confidence man for the _convenient slogans_ they were, paraded around to make everything easier when a gig went up or a friend was lost. A lie to soothe the shame and the pain.

It meant that Dorothy was to Laurent what Laurent was to him now - the person who had manipulated the circumstances in their favor, changing lives with a cheerful, enigmatic smile and promise of ‘the best game.’ They destroyed and rebuilt lives while taking for themselves the things they needed because that was the only way they knew to do it - as a business transaction. Equivalent exchange.

_“You can trust or betray whoever you want, just… forgive yourself. That’s what saved me.”_

He forgave himself for hating Dorothy, and everyone knew it was because if he were in Laurent’s or Oz’s shoes, he would have done the same damn thing.

 _“Even when you lose someone close to you, you don’t feel remorse or quit!”_ _he screams at Laurent, digging a sword into his father’s fake police gear._

It was one of the many admittedly-hypocritical things he had said in that entire painful tirade.

Yes, his father’s actions hurt. But it hurt less when he realized his mother had not died while in the dark. It hurt less when he realized his father was _not_ in fact, the type of scum that bought and sold children - he was just the type of scum Makoto was. Like father, like son.

If he were still living in Nice, Sébastien and his daughter Marie, who had taken him in, would tell him, _“C’est la vie.”_

“Because that’s what it all boils down to, isn’t it?” Makoto murmured to himself. 

_“So, you were serious?” Abigail asks._

_“Yes.”_

She was right to doubt him - he had been so close to snapping and ruining his life even further, just to feel like he was in control of _something_ for once. Rage, malice, and envy tumbled around in his gut like shoes in a dryer, pounding at him relentlessly. If he had not chosen to forgive his father, to forgive Laurent, to forgive _himself,_ he would be sitting at a dinner table with Suzaku Akemi right about now, letting her live quietly as she wished as he reigned over her empire.

But that would have been trying to substitute his gains for his losses, like forcing puzzle pieces into the wrong places.

_“The more you do these things, the more you start to… lose sight of yourself.”_

If it were not for Laurent’s deep insight into Makoto’s character, he would have become like Masamune after all and killed his own father.

In the end, everything came back to Laurent.

“Edamame?”

Makoto snapped out of his trance, looking up to meet Laurent’s questioning stare. “Yeah, sorry,” he straightened up, shooting a reassuring smile towards his part-timer across the room who was watching him with concern. “What did you say?”

Laurent passed up a smile. “You were doing some serious thinking right there.”

Makoto shook his head, busying his hands with a refill for Laurent’s coffee cup, empty and glistening on the counter. “Just thinking about the old times, is all.”

“Oh?” 

Maybe Laurent’s actions and control over his life could not be justified so easily, but that was no one’s business but Makoto’s own. He has already started a new chapter in his life’s story - one _without_ Dorothy’s or his father’s or Laurent’s influence.

 _Well, maybe not Laurent’s,_ he sighed internally. The glint in those blue eyes was all-too-familiar. But then again, Laurent had always given him the opportunity to walk away.

And now, he could finally choose not to.

* * *

The part-timer working at the café - a young college student who liked to pull her hair back into a relaxed ponytail - sighed. She turned to the shop’s regulars, shaking her head, and they all groaned or slumped their shoulders in disappointment.

 _“Now_ where will I go for coffee?” one bemoaned.

“Tsk! That blond foreigner is like a bad omen!” an elderly woman scowled, making ‘Shoo, shoo!’ gestures behind the man’s back.

“Eh? Eh?! What is it?” a newcomer blinks, head darting around at the scene.

A veteran regular fixed the guest with a knowing look. “It’ll be at least three weeks before this place opens up again.”

“Once they get like that, it’s useless,” the part-timer agreed, jerking her chin in the odd pair’s direction with a fond laugh. 

The mysterious foreigner sat with an air of casual elegance in the right-most stool. Her boss stood on the other side of the counter, right in front of him. Their voices were low murmurs that she has never been able to eavesdrop on no matter how hard she tried, and she knew that once the pair settled into those places, they would be in their own little world for hours.

And in a few days, the coffee shop would close.

 _Well,_ she smiled to herself, _at least I’ll still get paid._

It made her wonder sometimes, though, how the shop could afford to stay open when it shut down for weeks at a time so frequently.

**Author's Note:**

> I watched Case 4 about three times before I could actually put my thoughts down on the page. There was so much to unpack, I almost threw away the whole suitcase.


End file.
